Great Demon of Tianyan
The tranquility of the Floating Island lasted less than the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea. Suddenly, the newly formed bright star in the Tai Chi Ring Star Map began to flicker violently. Its light flashed and dimmed, revealing an eerie purplish-black hue. This purplish-black, like a malignant sore, slowly spread along the veins of the Star Orbit's orbit. Wherever it passed, the halo of the Star Map seemed to be thrown into an inkwell, gradually losing its original clarity. Even the air seemed to be stained with an impenetrable haze, and breathing it into the lungs carried a bone-chilling cold.
That purplish-black wasn't pure darkness, but rather like ink dripped into clear water, spreading and twisting in the halo of light. Those patterns resembled the blood vessels of a living creature, slowly pulsating within the halo. The Light and Darkness Qi that had just stabilized on the Star Orbit seemed to be thrown into boiling oil and cold water, bursting open with a "sizzle" sound, creating fine cracks. The aura emanating from the cracks carried the metallic, corroded sweet smell, making one's heart tighten, as if something was rotting from within.
The cracks were initially as fine as hair, hidden in the folds of the Star Orbit, almost imperceptible without close inspection. In an instant, they spread like a spider web, and the runes on the edge of the Star Map dimmed one by one, as if soaked in invisible ink. Even the flowing halo exuded an impenetrable deathly stillness, as if countless eyes were spying from behind the halo. The trembling of eyelashes could stir up tiny ripples in the void, and those ripples concealed a chilling malice.
"Click--"
A sharp crack pierced the void, like the mournful cry of ice breaking, carrying a despairing sense of shattering. The bluestone slabs at the edge of the Star Map were the first to crumble, the cracks radiating outwards and tearing the texture of the ground into irregular fragments. Each fragment trembled slightly, as if trembling in fear of the impending disaster.
The purplish-black gas seeping from the cracks was as viscous as aged ink, carrying a musty, rotten smell. The odor was like rotten wood mixed with dried blood deep in an ancient tomb, so thick it couldn't be dissolved. When it landed, it "plop" and bloomed into countless tiny ghost faces. The sound of it hitting the ground contained the crisp sound of teeth gnawing on bones, making one's teeth ache.
Each ghostly face was only the size of a fingernail, yet it clearly replicated the outline of the Demon of Tianyan: its left eye was blazing white like a burning Mars, leaving tiny scorch marks on the stone slab, the edges of which glowed with a faint red light, like unhealed flesh spreading slowly across the stone; its right eye was deep black like the tip of an ice-quenched needle, its sweep causing frost to rise in the air, within which tiny Ice Crystals condensed, and within those Ice Crystals were frozen miniature wailing figures, twisting and struggling within the Ice Crystals, yet unable to break free.
They crawled densely on the ground, their tiny claws scraping against the stone slabs, making a hissing sound as faint as ants crawling over dry bones. The sound spread along the Stone Steps, drilling into people's ear canals, making their souls go numb and their fingertips feel cold, as if countless tiny insects were crawling along their blood vessels into their hearts, and with each inch they crawled, their blood seemed to freeze a little.
Ren Xiaoyao's pupils contracted like cold stars, and his recently calmed sea of consciousness suddenly sank—the aura of those ghostly faces was a hundred times stronger than the previous Demon of Tianyan. The surging obsession within the purplish-black aura was no longer a chaotic torrent, but instead exuded a more terrifying "order": the howling Infant Phantoms no longer cried haphazardly, but lined up in neat rows, the arcs of their small hands waving perfectly precise, even the rise and fall of their cries carried an eerie rhythm, as if controlled by an invisible conductor's baton, every movement so precise it was chilling; the trajectory of the boy's sword transformed into precise array patterns, every wisp of spiritual light flickering from the sword tip All of them fell at the preset nodes, the flashing frequency of the light particles matching the pulse of the Star Map, as if weaving a net to trap heaven and earth, to confine all life within it; the cultivators' despair condensed into hard armor, the patterns on the armor plates even faintly matching the direction of the Floating Island's ley lines, as if to drag the entire island into the abyss of despair—this was not a resurgence of the dead, but rather a rearrangement of the scattered Rebellious Power according to some twisted Principle, condensing it into an even more terrifying whole, like a precise yet evil machine, every gear strangling life, every operation carrying an aura of destruction.
"Ha... Ren Xiaoyao..."
Countless miniature ghost faces spoke simultaneously, their voices no longer the roars that exploded in the sea of consciousness, but like a million needles coated with Cold Poison, drilling into the veins of the soul. With each inch deeper, the soul felt a more numb, stinging pain. The pain was not sharp, but a dull, numbing sensation, as if the soul was being corroded little by little.
Each syllable carried an oppressive sense of order, like countless gears turning inside his skull. The dull thud of teeth grinding together seemed to be grinding his soul into patterns that conformed to "reverse," forcibly twisting the trajectory of his thoughts. His originally clear ideas became blurred, as if covered by a thick layer of dust.
A stream of purplish-black energy erupted from the cracks, weaving in the air to form a colossal shadow covering half the sky: its head was a pyramid of countless ghostly faces, the features at the bottom blurred, becoming clearer as it rose. The main face at the top burned with a collapsing star in its left eye, the afterimages of Planets being torn apart visible in the flames. The gravity of the collapsing Star Core stretched even light into thin lines, as if trying to suck everything around it into the center of destruction; its right eye was frozen with shattered galaxies, countless shimmering Star Remains embedded in the ice, the edges of Star Remains were still covered with billions of years of frost. The chill emanated from the void, causing a bone-chilling pain, as if every bone in the body was about to shatter in the cold; the fangs at the corners of its mouth transformed into rotating Black Hole, swallowing a ray of celestial light with each rotation, even the arc of the falling light was precisely calculated, as if rehearsing a cosmic-scale annihilation, even time itself was being swallowed and distorted, becoming slow and viscous.
"This is... the Great Demon of Tianyan." Ren Xiaoyao pressed his fingertip to his brow, and the cinnabar mark on his forehead throbbed with a needle-like pain. The pain spread along the bridge of his nose, and even his eyes stung. Tears were about to well up when they were frozen at the corners of his eyes by Invisible Power, turning into tiny Ice Crystals. His own pale face was reflected in the Ice Crystals.
He clearly sensed that this Devil Creature was no longer simply "rebellious," but had stolen the "fragments of rules" of the evolution of heaven and earth, reorganizing the chaotic Rebellious Power according to a distorted order. It even wanted to tamper with the foundation of the operation of heaven and earth, as if it wanted to turn the whole world upside down, turn black into white, and turn life into death.
When light and darkness meet, they no longer merge; instead, they annihilate each other. A blinding white light erupts at the point of collision—not a warm glow, but a blazing inferno carrying Destructive Aura. This is followed by Silent Void, where even space itself is gnawed into tiny holes by this annihilation. These holes are bottomless, like paths to Endless Abyss. The cycle of life and death ceases to be a flow, becoming an eternal tearing apart. Newly sprouted buds are strangled by their own roots as soon as they break through the soil. The roots are still covered with the sap of the buds, a tender green that carries the stench of blood. The decaying wood, barely showing any green, is scorched black by the branches. The veins of the branches conceal greedy shadows that wriggle within them like countless tiny insects—forcibly branding even the most basic boundaries with the mark of "reversal." It's as if the heavens and earth are bound by an inverted shackle, where every breath becomes a betrayal of oneself, and every heartbeat deviates from its original trajectory.
The Great Demon of Tianyan raised his hand, his five fingers pressing down like five inverted Demon Mountain. The purplish-black energy at his knuckles condensed into hideous bone spurs, Root Bone covered with tiny ghost faces. The mouths of these ghost faces opened and closed as if chanting Curse. These curses were not words, but they could directly penetrate a person's soul, stirring up the deepest fears in their heart.
Wherever the purplish-black energy flowing between his fingers passed, the newly sprouted green shoots on the Floating Island instantly sprang up, transforming into ancient vines entwined with thorns. The sharp thorns on the vines gleamed with a ghostly blue poisonous light, a light so intense it was dizzying to behold, yet they would snap off themselves when they reached their limit. The sap seeping from the core of the vines carried a self-consuming, fishy odor, dripping onto the ground and corroding tiny holes. From these holes, even smaller vines would emerge, continuing this meaningless destruction, like an endless cycle of self-destruction. The blue light of the Crystal Moss condensed into ice, but within the ice, ghostly fire burned. Ice and fire burned and froze in the same place, emitting a sizzling sound, a sound carrying the painful groans of ice and fire. What gushed from the cracks in the ice shell was not water, but a white mist carrying Mars, which fell... On the grass and trees, the vegetation burned within the ice, freezing and smoking simultaneously, a bizarre and tragic sight. The ancient pine's rings rotated in reverse, retreating from verdant green to charred black, the bark even bearing the scorch marks of past lightning strikes, the scorch marks still embedded with lingering electric sparks that crackled and Void. Even the trajectory of the pine needles falling to the ground repeated the vicious cycle of "existence-death," each needle falling with a faint sigh, as if mourning this endless torment—it could forcibly create a "cycle" within "reverse," turning birth and death into an unsolvable dead end, like drawing a circle in place from which one could never escape, each turn leading to deeper despair, leaving no glimmer of hope in sight.
Just as the Light and Darkness Qi around Ren Xiaoyao were about to circulate, they were frozen by the purplish-black energy. Like a flying insect sealed in amber, the trajectory of its flapping wings was clearly visible, but it could no longer move forward. Even the strength to struggle was drained by the freezing, and its body became heavy and numb, as if filled with lead.
The gray-white patterns in his sea of consciousness wrinkled, and the newly fused Power of Void seemed to have been put into misaligned gears, making a piercing friction sound when it turned. The sound was so sharp that it was like metal scraping against each other, as if it would shatter at any moment. Even his heartbeat skipped a beat, and a suffocating pain rose in his chest, as if a huge rock was pressing on it, making it hard to breathe.
He bit his tongue hard, spraying the Purple-Gold Blood Qi into his palm. But the moment it touched the air, it was twisted into black. The vitality contained in the Blood Qi turned into Death Qi on its own, as if all the warmth had been sucked away. Even his meridians felt a tingling sensation, spreading from his fingertips all the way to his heart. It was as if his internal organs were being eroded by this Death Qi, losing temperature little by little. The warmth in his body was being slowly drained away, leaving only a chill that penetrated to the bone marrow.
"Mutual Generation of Light and Dark, life and death are interdependent... But what if even 'birth' and 'dependence' themselves are reversed?" The colossal shadow of the Great Demon of Tianyan bent down, and countless ghostly faces on the pyramid head opened their eyes simultaneously. The Light and Dark Power in their pupils spun wildly, forming miniature vortexes. Within these vortexes, one could see countless beings struggling painfully in the alternation of light and darkness, ultimately turning into Void. The faces of those beings were blurred, yet one could feel their despair that penetrated to the very marrow of their bones.
Ren Xiaoyao's consciousness was instantly overwhelmed by countless obsessions: the innocence of infancy transformed him into a puppet controlled by threads, each cry filled with helpless despair. The other end of the threads was wrapped around invisible joints, and when pulled, even his soul trembled, as if trying to strip away his true self from its roots, turning him into an empty shell without a self; the sharpness of his youth transformed into a blade piercing himself, the cold light of the sword tip reflecting his terrified face, the jade pendant on the sword tassel shattered into dust, each fragment engraved with a past vow, the vow twisted into a mocking laugh within the fragments, as if mocking... They laughed at his past naiveté; the focus he had during cultivation had solidified into an unbreakable shackle. The runes on the chains were the vows he had carved himself. As the runes flickered, even the spiritual energy in his dantian began to flow in reverse, as if to overturn all his past cultivation—this time, it wasn't about stirring up obsessions, but about rewriting his very existence into a part of "reversal," making him, from the root, the opposite of the Heaven and Earth Order. Even his breathing carried a rebellious rhythm, each Inhale and Exhale consuming his connection with heaven and earth, making him increasingly lonely and increasingly alienated from this world.
Amidst the excruciating pain, Ren Xiaoyao suddenly caught a glimpse of the remnants of the Tai Chi Ring: although the Light and Darkness Qi were distorted, a trace of Primordial Chaos gray-white splashed out at the moment of collision. That gray-white was like a drop of ink falling on rice paper, spreading silently, yet carrying an irresistible inclusiveness, as if it could accommodate all opposition and conflict, allowing them to coexist peacefully within it.
The color was neither bright nor dim, like the origin before light and darkness appeared, carrying a kind of Unrestrained Power freedom. When it landed on the stone slab, it turned into tiny specks of light, gently dancing. Each dance was in harmony with the pulse of heaven and earth, as if telling the most ancient rhythm, a rhythm in which there was no opposition, only harmony.
He suddenly recalled the scene when the Azure Beast disintegrated: in the illusory remnants of Remnant Souls of Living Beings, the wings of birds and the hooves of beasts, the sword light of cultivators and the new buds of plants, had no distinction between "birth" and "death," but were simply natural flows, as natural as the changing of the seasons. Spring and autumn came without any deliberate effort, and birth and death were just different aspects of the same process, just like the blooming and withering of flowers, which were inherently a cycle. He recalled when the Demon of Tianyan first appeared, although the Light and Darkness Qi were struggling, there was a complementary trajectory hidden in the most twisted patterns, just like the Yin-Yang Fish. Even if they were torn apart, the light spots in the fish's eyes always corresponded and never deviated from each other. Behind the opposition, there was always a hidden harmony, and that harmony was the foundation of the existence of opposition.
"In the beginning of heaven and earth, there was no order or reversal, only Primordial Chaos..." Ren Xiaoyao suddenly released all resistance. His sea of consciousness no longer resisted those invading obsessions, but instead regarded them as part of "existence"—just as Primordial Chaos encompasses all things, order and reversal, life and death are two sides of the same origin, without absolute boundaries. Resistance will only make the opposition more acute, while acceptance will reveal its origin, just as the ocean accepts all rivers, whether clear or turbid, they can eventually merge into one.
He allowed the purplish-black energy of the Great Demon of Tianyan to entwine his body, feeling the pain of light and darkness being reversed and life and death being turned upside down. The pain came in waves, almost drowning his consciousness, but in this extreme pain, he caught a trace of Primordial Chaos gray-white. It became clearer and clearer in the gaps of pain, like the only lighthouse in the darkness, guiding him to find his way.
It exists in the gap between light and darkness, like the pale white of a fish's belly before dawn, not bright yet carrying hope, foreshadowing the natural alternation of Day and Night Cycle, a nature in which there is no victory or defeat, only the composed taking of the stage; it lies hidden at the boundary between life and death, like the breeze that brings spring after winter, not warm yet carrying vitality, proclaiming the inevitability of reincarnation, an inevitability in which there is neither eternal life nor eternal death, only the ceaseless flow; it merges into the origin of Void, like the silence before the birth of the universe, not empty yet encompassing everything, nurturing the possibility of renewal—it is the initial form before all opposing forces differentiated, the beginning and the end of all things, the source of all answers, the primordial state that needs no definition yet can interpret everything, it has no name, yet contains all names.
"Use me as the furnace to refine all that is favorable and unfavorable; use me as the boundary to unite life and death; use me as the beginning to recast Primordial Chaos!"
Ren Xiaoyao's body suddenly emitted a hazy white light. This light was neither the blazing Sun Essence nor the gentle Moonlight Essence, but rather like a Primordial Chaos of primordial chaos before the creation of heaven and earth. It carried an indescribable warmth, and wherever it touched, even the purplish-black air currents paused slightly, as if they could feel the long-lost primordial aura in this warmth. The violent air currents became somewhat docile.
The "Life" seal on the left hand and the "Death" seal on the right hand no longer merged, but shattered simultaneously, transforming into the most primordial Energy Particles, twinkling like stars in the air. The light of the particles flickered, yet it exuded a harmonious rhythm, as if countless stars were operating according to the Principle of the universe, orderly yet free. The gray-white of the sea of consciousness completely dispersed, sweeping in the Power of Void like a tide. In the roar of the particle collisions, a new power, No Life No Death, neither light nor darkness, was born. It transcended all opposing concepts, yet contained all opposing possibilities, like a huge container that could hold everything, yet could not be defined by anything.
It has no specific form, yet it can freely transform into light or darkness, life or death, as if it holds the "source code" of all power. It can interpret all things, yet it does not belong to any thing. It is free and unrestrained, not bound by any rules, yet it can derive all rules. It is the rule itself, yet it transcends the rules.
This is the Chaos Power.
The colossal shadow of the Great Demon of Tianyan suddenly stopped, the ghostly faces on the pyramid head all showing terror, the vortex of light and darkness in its pupils instantly stopped, as if it had lost its power in the face of this force, even the distorted order showed cracks, and those originally tightly meshed gears began to loosen, making a creaking sound.
It can reverse all differentiated forces, but it cannot deal with the undifferentiated origin—just as a gear cannot grind the iron that makes it, Principle cannot restrain the Primordial Chaos that gave birth to it. All rebellion loses its meaning in the face of the origin, because the origin has already contained rebellion, yet it transcends rebellion. Rebellion is only a manifestation of the origin, but it can never represent the origin.
The Chaos Power surged through the purplish-black air currents like a tide, instantly restoring the distorted light and darkness to their original state. The blazing sunlight warmed once more, its gentle warmth dispelling the chill from the bone marrow, bringing comfort from the inside out. The deep black night returned to tranquility, embracing all shadows without swallowing them, which stretched freely in the darkness, like dancing a leisurely dance. The reversed cycle of life and death began anew, with new buds sprouting from the broken branches of ancient vines, their tips glistening with dew, the dew reflecting the pure and direct joy of life. The charred ancient pines regained their verdant green, the dewdrops on their needles reflecting the sunlight, the sunlight containing the rhythm of nature, a rhythm harmonious and melodious. Even the most stubborn obsessions were dismantled into pure Energy Particles, silently merging into the Primordial Chaos torrent like snowflakes melting into spring water, leaving only fusion, as if there had never been any conflict, all contradictions resolved in this moment, returning to peace.
"No! Order... my order!" The Great Demon of Tianyan roared as it self-destructed, its voice filled with childlike despair, as if its cherished toy had been utterly shattered. That despair was tinged with resentment and incomprehension. Countless ghostly faces transformed into billions of streaks of purplish-black light, tracing chaotic paths in the air, attempting to recombine into the "reverse" rules. Each streak of light concealed a resentful roar, a roar revealing the fear of its own existence being denied. They feared disappearing, feared returning to the Primordial Chaos that they could not comprehend.
But the Chaos Power simply swept it in, drawing all the flowing light into it. The movement was gentle yet carried an irresistible force, like a mother embracing her willful child. No matter how the child struggled, it could only calm down in the mother's arms in the end.
The purplish-black color, like ink dripping into water, quickly dissolves in the Primordial Chaos, leaving not even a trace of struggle—before the all-encompassing Primordial Chaos, any deliberate "reversal" is nothing but a futile ripple, ultimately returning to its origin and becoming part of the whole. There is no longer any solitary "reversal," only complete "existence," just like a drop of water merging into the ocean, forever existing alongside it, indistinguishable from it.
As the last wisp of purplish-black air dissipated, the sky over the Floating Island brightened completely, as if it had been washed by water. Even the air became transparent, and the patterns of the distant clouds could be seen flowing slowly. Those patterns were soft and expansive, like the heavens and earth stretching lazily.
Sunlight pierced through the clouds, sprinkling every inch of the island with the freshness of the rain-washed landscape. Dust particles danced freely in the sunlight, each refracting a rainbow of colors, weaving a flowing net of light that gently enveloped the entire Floating Island.
On the Tai Chi Ring Star Map, the newly born bright star no longer twinkles, but instead appears as Primordial Chaos gray-white. Light and darkness, life and death, flow naturally within it, as calmly as breathing, without any stagnation. The patterns of the Star Orbit trails have become rounded and smooth, as if they were born to run in this way, without the need for deliberate maintenance. Each trajectory is like the natural breathing of heaven and earth, even and long.